


White Clover (a promise)

by S_Horne



Series: August in Bloom [24]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Established Relationship, Hurt Tony, Kidnapping, M/M, Tony Stark Angst, not all that happy, proposal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-25
Updated: 2019-08-25
Packaged: 2020-10-01 20:09:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,576
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20390425
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/S_Horne/pseuds/S_Horne
Summary: “Hey, sweetheart.”Tony lifted his head as he tried to focus on Steve’s voice. When he managed to open his eyes and blink a bit of the blurriness away, he was rewarded with a gentle smile being shone down at him.“There you are,” Steve said. “Was worried I was going to have to talk to myself.”Though his tone was light, Tony knew what he meant. It was no secret that Tony was physically weaker and a hell of a lot more human than Steve was and was therefore struggling more with the lack of regular nourishment that came with being held hostage.“Course not,” Tony said back, voice hoarse but plastering a smile on his face all the same. His head was pounding and his eyes couldn't stay open. “Would I ever do that to you? You’d never get a sensible answer.”





	White Clover (a promise)

**Author's Note:**

> I left the ending open, but I guess it could be read either way. I didn't write a death, though it could be perceived as such. Please proceed with caution or click out now.

To be fair to the men that had kidnapped them, they had obviously done their homework. The grab had been smooth and none of them had seen it coming in the slightest. Steve and Tony had been knocked out almost immediately and Tony’s eyes hadn’t been uncovered again until they’d been thrown into their dark cell. There was no telling where they were or how long the journey had been, and their captors kept their faces covered with thick, black masks.

The chains that were holding Steve’s arms stretched above his head and locked to the wall were hefty with massive links that could clearly withstand even Captain America’s extreme strength. They’d tried them enough times to know that was true. The metal seemed to have some sort of coating on as well, a substance that was cutting into Steve’s wrists and leaving thick, red welts with every sharp movement.

Tony had been thrown down to the floor with his hands bound behind his back, a long chain tied from his bonds to a hook on the hard ground. It wasn’t dignified, but it gave him more freedom than Steve had. Not that freedom counted for much where they were.

Hours passed. Somewhere along the way those hours had turned to days. There was no real routine of which to speak, no schedule of food and water being delivered to them. It couldn’t be followed, couldn’t be counted down to the next time that Tony’s throat would be wet with a small glass of desperately-needed water. Their phones had gone, watches and wallets stripped when they had been taken off the street. Time eluded them.

The cell was clearly deep underground, or at least reinforced a ridiculous number of times with a ridiculous number of metals to make it impossible to escape. There was a single vent at the top of the wall with the door on it, only big enough to allow air into the cell and presumably the noise of Steve and Tony’s conversations to travel back out. It wasn’t beyond the realms of possibility for there to be a little something extra in the air flowing through the vent, as Tony never used to fall asleep as easily when at home in a real bed as he did in a dark and dingy cell.

The door itself was thick and just far enough away that Tony’s chain forced him to a halt before he was able to get a decent look at it.

No demands had been made to them personally; no requests for bomb designs, no explicit threats, or even promises of release after payment. There’d been no contact and Tony and Steve had nearly driven themselves mad trying to think of what they were being held for.

“Hey, sweetheart.”

Tony lifted his head as he tried to focus on Steve’s voice. When he managed to open his eyes and blink a bit of the blurriness away, he was rewarded with a gentle smile being shone down at him.

“There you are,” Steve said. “Was worried I was going to have to talk to myself.”

Though his tone was light, Tony knew what he meant. It was no secret that Tony was physically weaker and a hell of a lot more human than Steve was and was therefore struggling more with the lack of regular nourishment that came with being held hostage.

“Course not,” Tony said back, voice hoarse but plastering a smile on his face all the same. His head was pounding and each movement made him want to vomit. “Would I ever do that to you? You’d never get a sensible answer.”

Steve laughed lightly, though Tony could feel his worried gaze boring into the side of his head when he looked down for a moment.

“There is actually something I wanted to talk to you about,” Tony started, wincing as he tried to roll his shoulders into a more comfortable position. It was nigh-on-impossible, what with how long he’d been forced into the stance, and Tony dropped his head back as he resigned himself to his fate.

Steve made an inquisitive noise, shuffling around a little as he too tried to find a comfortable pose. Two or three food-services ago, their captors had seemingly deemed Steve weak enough and had released his arms from above his head, choosing to strap Steve to a medical table instead.

Tony was even more sure that he had been right about the tampered-with air, as he’d apparently slept through the entire exchange.

That had finally been when he’d broken down and cried.

“Tony?”

“Oh. Right.” Tony shook his head, blinking a few more times to try and focus. “I wanted to talk to you. I’ve been, been trying for ages and I couldn’t find a good, a decent time.”

“This isn’t exactly my idea of a good time,” Steve said dryly, “but go on, sweetheart.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Tony said faux-seriously, looking around with a considering look. “A creepy basement and a bunch of psychos upstairs? Not my weirdest Tuesday.”

Not that he had any idea whether or not it was Tuesday. He was pretty sure it had been a Wednesday when they’d been taken. The memories were hard to keep straight in Tony’s tired and confused mind, but he’d though they’d been jumped as they were leaving their coffee shop.

It was a shame really; Tony had always rated their coffee as some of the best in their neighbourhood.

“Tony,” he heard Steve say and he tried to refocus. “Don’t do it now.”

“I have to. Got to today.”

“No.” There was a loud rattling of chains and a scuffle of material and Tony winced at the noise. “Tony, no.”

“Steven Grant Rogers,” he started, taking no notice of Steve’s calls for his attention, “will you–”

“Tony. Don’t, please.”

“I want to.” It took a momentous effort for Tony to lift his head and look over at Steve, their eyes locking together almost instantly. “I want to ask you and I want to hear you say yes.”

“Ask me when we get out.”

“And if we don’t?”

Steve recoiled as though someone had stabbed him. “Fuck. Don’t say that. Tony, don’t. Please don’t ever think that.”

“You’re always the optimist, you always have been,” Tony said, hating the defeat that was colouring his voice. Stark men didn’t cry. Stark men were made of iron. Tony was meant to be a superhero, and there he was. Giving up. “So you tell me. Tell me, Steve, do you think we’re getting, getting out?”

“Tony….”

And that was an answer in itself. Tony let his head fall back once more, giving in to his protesting muscles as they screamed out for rest.

“Please.” Tony was weak. He was ready to go, but he needed to know that he had Steve until the end. “Please say yes.”

“I will. I promise you, I will.” There was a beautiful urgency in Steve’s voice, a promise that Tony clung to even as the tendrils of permanent rest started to claw towards him. “But I don’t want to say it like this, not chained to a wall whilst you’re halfway to unconscious.”

“‘M fine,” Tony slurred entirely unconvincingly. He knew there was no way that Steve was going to believe him, but he wasn’t going without his answer. “I have to ask. I need, needed to hear you say it before he, they come back and I–”

“Don’t,” Steve almost snarled his interruption before he sighed deeply. There was some more rustling and some metallic clanking, but Tony didn’t bother looking up to see what was happening. “Don’t say that. They’re not going to get you again. The team will come, sweetheart, you’ll see.”

Steve’s voice was like a lotion, like a gentle and soothing lullaby.

“And if they don’t?”

“They will. I know they will."

“Steve,” Tony’s voice was quiet and he couldn’t make it any stronger, “come on.”

“No, Tony. The team will come and we’ll get out of here. As soon as we do, I’ll go to your workshop and get the ring from the desk drawer you never bother looking in, even when you say you check there whenever you can’t find things. And once I’ve got that, I’ll ask you.” There was a loud sniff and then Steve’s voice started again, thicker than before but just as beautiful to Tony’s clouded brain. “There’ll be flowers and chocolate and champagne and so much romance that you won’t know what hit you.”

“Hey!” Tony’s eyes were closed even as a soft smile tugged at his lips. “You can’t. Can’t ask me first, I’ve already asked you. I think.”

Steve huffed a laugh and let out something akin to a sob. “I love you.”

“Love you too. So please, Steve, marry me.”

Steve sighed. “I wish I could kiss you.”

“They’ll come for us.” Tony didn’t know if that was true. Didn’t know if he’d even be awake if they did ever make it to them, but he wanted to go out with something close to hope in his heart. “The team. Get us out.”

“Yeah?”

“They have to.” Tony’s throat was tight, breaths closer to wheezes than anything else, and he wasn’t sure what he was telling his brain to say was actually what was leaving his lips. If it was his time, then at least he had Steve. “I apparently have plans to attend.”

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so this is a bit angsty. Wasn't meant to be. But then it went with my mood.


End file.
